As I watch the stark dawn,
From the darkest room,
Black, white, hand drawn,
figures in bloom.

I smell my favourite jumper,
to find it's scent no longer sweet,
a reminder,
where my mind goes under.

It's the earliest it can be without light,
It's the last time I held my brother tight.
I am drawn to figures, black, white and grey.
God please don't let me die here today.